


My Hands Holding Yours Are Not Clean Either

by glxykpop



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mulan (1998) Fusion, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M, Minor Violence, War, minor blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26904271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glxykpop/pseuds/glxykpop
Summary: Being the son of Mulan and Li Shang, Jongdae knows he must one day follow in their footsteps. When the emperor calls for war, Jongdae dutifully answers the call.On the battlefield, he meets a warrior that will change the way Jongdae sees everything.
Relationships: Kim Jongdae | Chen/Zhang Yi Xing | Lay
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23
Collections: Xingdae Fic Fest (Round 2)





	My Hands Holding Yours Are Not Clean Either

**Author's Note:**

> This work was written for the Xingdae Fic Fest (Round 2) organised by Xingdae Café.  
> Prompt Number #20041 
> 
> It's finally done! I was so excited for this fest and now I have finally submitted it feels a little surreal.  
> Thank you for the hard work running the fest, I know it has been a bit strange this time but I loved this prompt and I hope I done it justice. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

The sun is still hanging stubbornly in the sky when Jongdae is done with the last of his lessons for the day. War strategy has always been Jongdae’s favourite of his many lessons but today, the hours had rushed by faster than ever. He knows it’s because today doesn’t let up after his lessons are complete. Despite knowing his parents and grandparents mean well, the persistent and ever more frequent matchmaker meetings are beginning to grow tiresome. 

When he arrives home, neither of his parents are there. He’s greeted by the main housekeeper who swiftly ushers him into the care of his servant. In practically no time at all, his plain student clothes are exchanged for something much more formal. When he’s deemed appropriately dressed, a maid slips in to attend to his hair. She loosens the simple black ribbon holding his hair in it’s normal messy top knot and it promptly falls in a curtain around him. Using dainty hands and precise movements, the maid combs until everything lays smooth and then pulls the top half up and away from his face. The front half being tied up is fashioned into a much neater knot with a complex metal piece surrounding it. Everything else is smoothed out and Jongdae is finally considered presentable. 

There’s a lot of hustle and bustle as Jongdae is urged towards the main sitting room. It would be considered impolite if Jongdae was late in any way but thanks to the militant nature with which he’s been prepared, Jongdae somehow manages to be there early. Tea is already ready and prepared, waiting to be poured. All the lessons on manners swim in Jongdae’s brain as he thinks over everything he has to do to not bring shame upon his family. Before he can get too caught up in his thoughts, a light tap sounds on the divide of the room. 

“Yes?” Jongdae calls, standing with the posture he’s been taught for years. The divide slides back with a slight swish. 

“Good evening, Jongdae.” The young lady that stands on the other side is wearing the same kind of thing as all his partners have previously. Fabrics of both pink and violet make up the dress, and a sash of red cinches in her waist. The tight ribbon holding her hair in place matches the sash and the shade of her painted lips. Delicate features appear even more so with all the added makeup and even Jongdae can admit she looks very beautiful. He knows she will make a very good bride and yet, something in him wilts at the thought of marrying her. 

It’s the same feeling that he gets whenever he attends one of these meetings. That heavy sinking in his stomach that no matter how beautiful or how well mannered his partner is, he will never be able to truly love them. 

Harshly pushing aside those feelings, Jongdae assists the young lady until they’re both sat comfortably. As she meticulously pours them both tea, she introduces herself as Yiren. The meeting is reserved, both of them definitely nervous, but for once, Jongdae gets through the whole meeting without making a colossal fool of himself. They speak of ambitions, of talents and most importantly of music. Yiren confesses she plays the guqin and the pipa and they slowly relax being able to talk about music. 

It’s the first time Jongdae doesn’t feel exhausted by the end of a meeting and they part mutually happy. Fearful of providing her with with too much hope, Jongdae doesn’t bring up a second meeting but he also doesn’t dismiss the possibility either, knowing it will please his family if they’re able to successfully meet a second time. 

He drags himself back through the rooms until finally, he’s back in his rooms. Shedding the fancier pieces of his attire and the ornament from his hair, Jongdae stretches out across his bedding. It’s a nice relief after having to be on his best behaviour for so long. He must have fallen asleep as he’s shook awake by one of the servants. 

“My lord, dinner is ready. Your parents are waiting for you in the main dining room.” The words strike urgency into Jongdae, knowing the longer he keeps his parents waiting the more disrespectful it looks. Swiftly, he re-knots his hair up and pulls on an appropriate top layer. As he gets close, his parent’s voices drift to him.

“Finally a meeting went well.” His father’s words are heavy with relief. 

“You pin too much on the matchmaker, Shang. My own session is still used as a horror story of what not to do.” A little thrum of comfort settles any of the nervousness his father’s words had summoned in Jongdae. Before he lets it progress too much further though, he enters into the dining room and shortly bows to both his parents. 

“Sorry for my lateness. I went to rest after the meeting today.” Both of his parents faces show their worry. Concern over whether Jongdae is returning to the period of ill health he experienced for many years in his childhood is easy to read from their expressions. It had been a scary time for everyone, what with Jongdae barely even able to leave his bed from about the age of 5 through to 8. He’d improved steadily from there though but any time he seems remotely unwell, his parents have a tendency to overreact. Jongdae is quick to reassure them. “I’m fine. Simply tired from having to remember all my good manners.” 

A smile quirks his mother's lips before she can fight it back. 

“As long as you’re alright Jongdae. You’re what is most important to us.” The reminder colours Jongdae’s cheeks and he’s quick to join them at the table. They’ve barely started their meal and his father has yet to ask how the meeting went when a messenger rushes into the room. With ragged breaths, the young man holds the scroll out for Shang to take. His father’s eyes skim the words, getting wider as he progresses. Sighing, he reads the message aloud. 

“It is with a heavy heart that I write these words. Our beloved peace is being threatened once more. The Huns pressure our villages and we cannot allow our people to go unprotected from their cruelty. So I turn to you, our bravest, to summon your soldiers and protect our home once more.” He recites the location they’re expected at and a few other things they need to do. 

“A summons from the emperor… to go to war…” Mulan looks desperately in Shang’s direction as if willing him to take back his words. There’s a long pause as all three of them do their best to take in the news. Jongdae isn’t sure what the letter truly means for him. Being nineteen, he hasn’t quite found his defined role yet. If not for his ill health, it was likely he would have followed in his father’s footsteps. However, because of the protectiveness of his parents, he didn’t start any form of training until much later than his peers. With a few extra lessons and some sessions with each of his parents (that neither of the other parent knew about), Jongdae had caught up in most ways but it was clear that he was never going to be on the front lines commanding soldiers. 

Shang’s gaze avoids both of them, locking onto the letter on the tabletop. Silence hangs heavily as they all desperately try to cope with the news. Deciding it was best to let his parents talk about this without him, Jongdae climbs to his feet. He bows respectfully to them. 

“I will leave you both to talk about this. I think it is best if I retire now.” With his words, Jongdae dips into another bow. He hesitates slightly until Mulan nods at him before he slips away back to his room. 

Not bothering to undress this time, Jongdae falls into his bedding. The words from the letter swirl through his head until he can’t bear to lay still anymore. Dragging himself up, he changes into just his bed clothes. Moving to his mirror, he gently unties the knot in his hair. His haste from before dinner has left the strands full of tangles and Jongdae works slowly but meticulously until the comb runs through his hair smoothly. It has worked to keep him occupied for a while but as he returns to lying in bed, the busy nature of his thoughts refuses to let him sleep. 

After what must be hours of tossing and turning, Jongdae eventually gives up on trying. Deciding some cold water would help clear his head, Jongdae climbs from his bedding and makes sure his lighter robes are tied well enough that he's not exposing himself in any way. The corridors are dark as he pads barefoot through the house towards the kitchen. He’s careful to be quiet so as not to disturb the silence that hangs in the air. 

His steps falter when the faint sound of voices drift over to him. The voices don’t seem to be trying to be quiet like Jongdae is so it’s likely that it’s his parents. It would explain why he hasn’t bumped into any servants moving to retire for the evening or prepare for tomorrow. Whenever his parents get like this, everyone knows better than to get involved. 

With a small sigh, Jongdae continues to creep forward. If he’s caught, his alibi for wanting water will still stand as this is the most logical path to it from his room. The closer he gets to the voices, the harder it becomes to tune out the words. It’s only when he hears his own name does Jongdae freeze and pay proper attention. 

“Jongdae is a full grown man now, Mulan! It is only reasonable for him to come with us. He has to learn sooner or later what it is that we do and what it is he will be expected to do.” 

“You know it is not expected of him to become your successor on the battlefield, Shang. We’ve known for years his strengths lie elsewhere but you’re so intent on trying to make him follow you, that you can’t accept that. Regardless, he is still too young to be dragged into this without us being at active war.” 

Clearly his parents are debating as to whether or not he should be taken with them to assist with this new force. It has almost always been like this. Shang with the belief that Jongdae should at least see the front line, whereas Mulan was more content to keep Jongdae at a distance from danger. With a sigh, Jongdae leaves his parents to argue. They’ll likely be at it for hours and Jongdae doesn’t want to worry over what his fate will be anymore than he already is. 

Keeping his steps light so as not to let his parents know he is awake, Jongdae collects the water he was aiming on getting in the first place and returns to his room. This time he bothers to blow out candles and set aside the water he doesn’t finish before returning to his bed. Knowing that sleep will likely evade him for the rest of the night, Jongdae takes to his thoughts. After what feels like hours of organising all the thoughts rushing around in his head, Jongdae knows what he wants to do. Whether his parents will agree or not is another thing. 

He’s barely drifted away from being fully awake when sunlight starts to creep through the gaps in the shutters. The routine of waking up and getting ready is bizarrely normal despite Jongdae knowing he’s walking towards a breakfast with the intention of walking towards war. Settling into his place at the table, Jongdae waits patiently for his parents to arrive. When they do eventually join him, it looks like neither of them have slept at all. They eat in a solemn silence until Shang sighs exhaustedly, unable to hold his silence any longer. 

“Jongdae, you know we have been summoned to war. You’re of an appropriate age to be making your own decisions now.” Shang pauses, a long heavy wait as he works out how best to proceed. “Ultimately, it is your decision as to whether you’re accompanying us or not. We will support you regardless of your decision.” 

Stealing himself, Jongdae looks up from the table. 

“I want to come with you.” 

The next few days are a blur of activity and travel. Jongdae travels just behind his parents, mind racing with plans and worries. He’s been silently contemplating everything when something leaps in the corner of his vision. Looking down into his lap, he’s greeted by a tiny, lithe, red dragon wriggling as he lands. 

“Stupid horse, always trying to force me to do my job even when there is no job to do.” A smile quirks Jongdae’s lips at Mushu’s complaints. He calms the small dragon and assures him that he’s doing his job just fine. Mushu settles into riding with Jongdae until everyone draws to a halt. A lone rider charges towards them thankfully bearing the emperors colours. Moving closer so he can overhear the messenger's voice, Jongdae is careful to not intrude where he is not supposed to be. 

“It’s a massacre! Three clans attacking at once. There’s not enough of us to hold them back.” The messenger’s voice is ragged with bothe exertion and panic. Splashes of blood stain his armour and Jongdae can tell the messenger is injured somewhat by his lopsided posture on his horse. Mulan clearly can tell as well as she calls over one of the medics to help him. Moving with the efficiency earned by working together for so many years, Shang and Mulan assign two soldiers to stay with the medic and the messenger before summoning everyone else to ready for battle. 

Armour fitted and Mushu carefully hidden, Jongdae falls into formation. Once it appears everyone is almost ready, Mulan slips back to Jongdae and drops a quick kiss to his brow. 

“Stick close to us. We will protect each other.” The words are soft, remarkably Mulan keeps her voice steady despite her obvious worry. Jongdae’s answering smile is probably not very convincing but he does his best to reassure his mother. With a final shared look, Mulan returns to her place at the front. There’s a small hush before Shang shouts his commands and everyone surges forward, both on horseback and on foot. 

Jongdae follows along, sword feeling heavy by his hip. It’s not long before the noise of the fighting creeps over the horizon. Watching the other soldiers draw their swords, Jongdae does the same, tightening his hold on the reins with his other hand. Keeping his eyes locked on his father, he watches Shang raise his sword and shout before crashing into the conflict. 

Mere moments later it’s Jongdae who's being thrown into the fray. Every single lesson he’s taken races through his mind, desperately working on overdrive to keep him uninjured and still atop his horse. It’s not long before Jongdae likely mirrors the messenger from earlier. Blood, thankfully none of it his own, seeps into his clothing through the gaps in his armour and Jongdae can feel it against his skin as well. The next slash of his sword throws blood up over his face and reflexively, Jongdae casts his free hand up to clear it away from his eyes. Unfortunately the motion leaves him open and unaware of the club that catches him in the stomach. Losing his balance as his body curls inward, Jongdae tumbles from his saddle. 

Frantically trying to gasp air back into his lungs, Jongdae scrambles away from where the blow had come from. Knowing he needs to get up, Jongdae forces himself back to his feet. Luckily, his sword is still held firmly in his hand and he defends two incoming slashes before driving his blade through the attacker. He has no idea how long they’ve been fighting for, there seems to be no end to the battle that Jongdae can see. Managing to hold his own, Jongdae forces back hun after hun until a lithe figure appears before him. 

It’s immediately obvious that this person is different to anyone he has fought so far. He’s not bulky like almost all the soldiers have been and it instantly makes Jongdae wary. The lance he wields also contributes to Jongdae’s hesitation. It’s unlike anything Jongdae has seen before, in reality or in his studies. One end has the typical pointed sword blade Jongdae would expect of a lance, the other has a beautiful curve of almost ornate metal that features a no doubt razor sharp edge. Both ends drip blood whilst the user remains cleaner than most of the other people surrounding them. 

Strikingly handsome features are twisted in anger until his gaze falls onto Jongdae. A weird expression of peace filters over him before it hardens once and the stranger hun advances towards Jongdae. It’s almost as if he glides over the battlefield towards Jongdae, seemingly unfazed by the bodies at his feet. All Jongdae can think to do is prepare himself and dutifully, he lifts his sword. 

Time seems to pause as the stranger approaches him but everything suddenly rushes back to real time as Jongdae’s clashes in a block against a swipe of the lance. Doing his best and working as hard as he can, Jongdae is barely able to keep himself from getting hurt. Forcing himself to stay as calm as possible, Jongdae concentrates on dedicating his attention to the fight between the two of them. With each swing the hun makes, Jongdae analyses his style and searches for any possible weakness or gap he can exploit to stop simply trying to not die. The second Jongdae thinks he finds something he can use, the hun changes the way he moves. 

It’s on the third shift that something slips in Jongdae. Before he even realises it, his shoulder erupts into flames. Glancing down, Jongdae’s gaze locks onto where the pointed blade of the lance is buried into the flesh of his left shoulder. Shock spikes through his system and his eyes track back up the lance to the person holding it. Another weird expression decorates the strangers' features but Jongdae has no time to even consider what it means before the blackness encroaches over his vision and the world disappears. 

~~~

When Jongdae awakes all he knows is the pain. His shoulder feels like someone has let fire ants crawl beneath his skin. Crusty with dried blood, he has no idea where he is. Cracking an eyelid takes all his effort, and he’s greeted, thankfully, by the night sky. Head swimming, he barely registers he’s moving as he lies there. Unfamiliar voices speaking words he doesn’t know drift in through the haze. Despite his best efforts to cling to his consciousness, the darkness surges back in when he even attempts movement and he falls back under. 

~~~

The next time he stirs, he’s stationary at least. He’s weirdly numb at this stage. His whole shoulder and left arm are dead and Jongdae briefly fears that it’s no longer attached to his body but a quick glance confirms that he still has all his limbs. There’s heavy bandaging covering his left side. The effort it took to lift his head has his vision spinning and he strains to focus on one spot of the roof above him. It’s some kind of stretched tent and gently, the world steadies itself. Choking back the rush of nausea that swims at him, Jongdae focuses on his breathing until he feels kind of close to comfortable. 

Staying as still as he can, he casts his eyes around him. He’s definitely in some kind of circular tent, with the raised bed he’s on pressed against one of the sides. The rest of the space is simply furnished. A large chest is near the door flap and shelves near the far wall have a wide variety of items, none of which Jongdae can see in any detail. There’s a wide table as well but before Jongdae can really look further in any detail, he catches the door flap moving. 

His eyes dart to the flap and he unconsciously tries to push himself up and away from the door. A stab of pain shoots through his shoulder and he falls back to the bed as his energy leaves him. The newcomer clearly notices his movement and darts to his side. Jongdae’s vision narrows dangerously again and the features of the stranger blur with Jongdae’s discomfort. A strong hand pushes on the shoulder that is uninjured, forcing Jongdae to remain laying down. There’s no struggle from Jongdae, he’s too focused on fighting back the blackness from the edges of his vision. After a few minutes pass, Jongdae manages to get his body back under control and the world stabilises. This also means the strangers' features have cleared and focused in his vision and shock stabs through Jongdae as he recognises the face. 

The stranger is the one from the battlefield. It’s harder to tell immediately but the two memories slot together with enough clarity that Jongdae is sure they’re the same person. Aware that if he struggles, he’s likely to simply black out and to be honest, if the hun wanted to kill Jongdae, he would have simply left him on the battlefield instead of dragging him back to wherever Jongdae is now. Slowly Jongdae becomes aware that the hun is saying something to him and Jongdae strains to understand the words. 

“No, no, stop, no.” The words are heavily accented but Jongdae manages to recognise them as the traditional chinese he’s used to and not the language typically used by the huns. “You will stop, you pain.” 

The words aren’t perfect but Jongdae is able to scrabble a meaning together. He forces himself to relax his muscles despite hating being vulnerable in front of someone who is clearly his enemy. 

“Alright, alright, I will stop fighting back. I’ll just lie here whilst you do whatever it is you’re going to do.” Jongdae lays back as comfortably as he can manage as he watches the hun's eyebrows furrow. There’s a long wait as the hun seems to process what Jongdae has said. It clicks in Jongdae’s head that clearly the hun can’t speak traditional chinese well. “Ahh, I see. I stop. Yes. I stop.” 

The hun suddenly smiles when Jongdae manages to say something he can comprehend properly. Jongdae is struck by how handsome the man is as he lifts the hand holding Jongdae down. Instantly, Jongdae berates himself for thinking he was handsome. He’s not supposed to think that about his enemy and he certainly couldn’t act on anything. Not at least until he was married and had an heir. 

“Yes, you stop. I no pain you.” The hun moves to collect things from the shelves. His hands work fast as he crafts something on the table. When he moves back to Jongdae’s side, it looks like the item is some kind of poultice. Almost gingerly, the hun gently aids Jongdae in moving so he can remove the bandaging around his shoulder until the wound is exposed. It doesn’t look as horrifying as Jongdae expected. He’s been unconscious for long enough to get some initial healing done. At the press of the poultice against his wound, Jongdae hisses through his teeth. Whatever they’d given him to fight off the pain is clearly beginning to wear off. Trying to distract himself from the pain, he tries to ask the hun some questions. 

“Who are you?” Starting simple, Jongdae decides he’d rather know who his mystery doctor was. The hun tilts his head, evidently trying to process Jongdae’s words. Trying a different tactic, Jongdae weakly lifts his good arm to point at himself. “I, Jongdae. You…?” 

He trails off, pointing at the hun. 

“Ahh, I Yixing.” The hun flashes that smile again when he understands and before he can catch himself, Jongdae finds himself smiling back. It’s a very strange situation being nursed by the person who injured him in the first place. Despite everything, Yixing is very gentle and careful with his treatment. He switches over to his language and repeats the motions doing his best to teach Jongdae the equivalent of what he’s saying. Jongdae is likely butchering the pronunciation but Yixing smiles when Jongdae repeats the words. 

Once the treatment is apparently complete, Yixing gestures for Jongdae to stay still before he leaves the tent. With the awareness of the pain bleeding back in, Jongdae decides it’s probably best to do as Yixing tells him. Being alone let’s his mind race and he casts quick prayers for his parents' safety. He doesn’t get much further in that train of thought before the tent flap is being pushed open again. It’s Yixing once more but he’s accompanied by someone else as well. 

The newcomer is tall and lithe, likely another warrior from this clan, Yixing carries a steaming bowl of some kind of food, whereas the other man carries what looks like a cage. Both of them move over to the table. They talk rapidly with nothing making sense to Jongdae’s ears but apparently they come to some kind of agreement. The taller one comes over with the cage and holds it where Jongdae can see. A few light taps to the bars has whatever inside stirring awake. 

“Look I don’t know your language. No matter how loud you shout at me.” Jongdae knows that voice. 

“Mushu!” He calls out without moving from his place, slightly propped up. A red dragon head pops up between the bars. 

“Jongdae, you’re alive, you’re awake! Thank the ancestors. I thought I’d failed and they were going to take my pedestal away.” Mushu sags back down and the stranger sets the cage back onto the table. Yixing moves over with the stranger. 

“I, Yixing. You, Jongdae.” Yixing does the same pointing methods and Jongdae nods his understanding. Turning around he points to the newcomer. “Zitao.”

“Zitao.” Jongdae repeats and both of them nod their approval. Together, they manhandle Jongdae into a proper sitting position without causing him too much pain. Once upright, Zitao says something quickly to Yixing. After a brief nod from Yixing, Zitao leaves the tent and Jongdae waits as Yixing pulls a small stool to his bedside. 

“Eat.” Yixing says simply as he offers a spoonful of the broth to Jongdae. Dutifully, Jongdae does as he's told. The food is hot but tastes good as Jongdae forces himself to eat slowly. There’s silence whilst Jongdae eats but it doesn’t feel as prominent as Jongdae expects. Despite Yixing being the one who had stabbed him in the first place, Jongdae doesn’t resent him that much. It was war. If the opposite had occurred, Jongdae doesn’t think he would have been nursing an enemy soldier back to health. It doesn’t mean Jongdae doesn’t resent having a lance go through his shoulder, just that he understands why Yixing did it. 

Once the broth is done, Yixing sets the bowl aside and retrieves a book from the shelves. He flicks to a page and shows Jongdae. It’s a simple, well drawn sketch of a tree. 

“What’s this?” Yixing’s question is simple but Jongdae immediately understands what Yixing is doing. Being able to speak a common language will likely help them both whilst Jongdae is recovering. They pass about an hour like this, each teaching the other the relevant words for each picture. Yixing clearly has some experience with traditional chinese and he already knows some words but Jongdae is a quick learner and he concentrates on the vocabulary. The lesson draws to a close when Yixing notices Jongdae’s eyes drooping. He settles Jongdae back onto his back and leaves with the now empty bowl. With Mushu already asleep, Jongdae lets himself drift away as well. 

~~~

For the next two weeks, Jongdae develops a strange routine. Wake up, try to move, regret trying to move, talk with Mushu until Yixing shows up. He usually doesn’t have to wait too long before Yixing appears with some kind of food and after Jongdae has eaten, they spend some time teaching each other the languages they do not know. Thanks to his already basic knowledge, Yixing is picking up traditional chinese fast. Jongdae is slower but he can slowly mumble his way through a few sentences. 

It’s a whirlwind and Jongdae continually has to remind himself not to let himself fall for Yixing. There has been nothing but kindness and willingness to help from Yixing and it soothes any wounds Jongdae had, both physical and mental. 

Around the sixteenth day, Yixing comes by with his hands empty for once. Jongdae has been off any form of painkiller for several days now and as a result, he knows his own limits a lot more when it comes to movement. He’d taken his first steps a few days ago but hasn’t ventured outside the tent yet. Slowly but surely, he’d become comfortable in walking again. Deep down, he knows he hasn’t left the tent because he’s scared of what he will find. Seeing Yixing enter the tent, Jongdae sits up and swings his legs over the side of his bed. 

“Good day Jongdae.” Yixing greets jauntily in chinese. Apparently, Jongdae’s smile is enough confirmation for Yixing to know he’s gotten it correct. “Would you like to clean today?” 

Eyebrows furrowing, Jongdae cast his eyes around the tent. It appears as orderly as ever. 

“What needs cleaning?” Jongdae asks, confused at how much help he’ll be with only one functioning arm. Yixing clearly finds the question funny as his laugh works through his whole body. 

“Clean you. We clean you today?” Somehow, Yixing makes it into a question that has Jongdae answering with a laugh of his own. 

“Ahh, wash me? Am I alright? No pain?” He gently corrects Yixing’s slip up before gesturing to his shoulder. 

“The water is alright. Spring is clean and you are healing. Come, I can take you.” Yixing reaches out to help Jongdae but Jongdae climbs to his feet himself. Wanting to prove he’s capable, Jongdae assures Mushu he’ll be ok before he leaves the tent for the first time. 

It’s busier than Jongdae thought it would be but no one comes close to the tent Jongdae has been staying in, explaining why it has been quiet almost all the time. People meander around, seemingly at ease as they move between tenets and despite knowing these people are the sworn enemies of his people, he doesn’t feel particularly threatened. A part of Jongdae rationalises it as if they wanted to hurt him, Jongdae would already be dead. Yixing has been helping him but everyone seems to keep him at a distance. It’s a very weird world that Jongdae is navigating at the moment, so he quickly pushes any overly confusing thoughts aside and follows where Yixing is leading him. 

“I am sorry for your pain.” Yixing speaks carefully as they move forward away from the groups of people towards a quieter area. A look of sadness crosses Yixing’s face. It’s clear that Yixing is clearly apologetic but unable to talk properly about it. A sad smile drifts across Jongdae’s face. 

“I know why you did it. Fighting is fighting. It is not life.” The language barrier makes the conversation difficult but Jongdae does his best. Doing all he can to convey his message with his expression and for the first time touching, Jongdae reaches out to lightly lay his hand on Yixing. It’s a simple touch to his shoulder but Jongdae seems to have broken some kind of invisible wall with it because Yixing’s smile is the widest Jongdae has ever seen it be. Seemingly content, Yixing continues to lead Jongdae through the camp. 

The peace is disrupted when two children literally stumble straight into Jongdae. Yixing catches Jongdae with an arm around his waist, avoiding his injured shoulder but supporting him none the less.The children look sheepish and quickly apologise to both Jongdae and Yixing. A mother appears before either of them can respond to the children. She berates them quickly, Jongdae catching few of the words besides something that sounds like bad and something that sounds like leader. Yixing’s answering smile is soft. Again, Jongdae doesn’t understand all the words used but it sounds like Yixing isn’t upset or angry at all. Making sure Jongdae is stable on his feet, Yixing removes his arm and bends to ruffle the hair of the two children before pushing them off to play somewhere else. They giggle as they race away from their mother, who sighs a quick thanks to Yixing before following after the children. 

“Sorry, are you ok?” Yixing’s attention is immediately back on Jongdae once they’re alone again. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t worry.” The smile Jongdae’s words bring to Yixing’s face is definitely worth being lightly knocked into. “Did they call you leader?” 

A light crease appears on Yixing’s forehead as a shadow passes over his face. Before he can think better of it, Jongdae reaches forward and presses the stress between Yixing’s eyebrows until the tension dissipates. There’s a long moment where Jongdae’s brian catches back up to his actions before he feels his face flush and he quickly jerks his hand back to his side. Looking anywhere but at Yixing, Jongdae mumbles a quick apology. A trickle of laughter from Yixing has Jongdae dragging his gaze back to Yixing. 

“Thank you. Yes, I am a leader. I am small for a leader but I love my people. That is why I protect them in fighting.” There’s a slight muddle with his words but Jongdae corrects small to young and it makes things a little more understandable. It explains why Yixing can come and go from his tent as he pleases and why Zitao always looks to Yixing for permission before doing anything around Jongdae. He’s a little confused as to why Yixing used the word protect though.

“Protect your people? From what?” Jongdae’s confusion must be clear in his voice as Yixing turns to look at him as they walk. 

“Yes, protect. We are only a small clan. Big clan calls for warriors, we must go. Or families here are hurt. Things are taken. We go, we fight, home is safe.” The explanation has thoughts swirling in Jongdae’s mind. It sounds awfully similar to the situation when the war had needed soldiers. The entire reason his mother had trained to be a soldier in the first place was due to the emperor needing bodies for his army. 

“You’re a very talented leader, Yixing. Your people are lucky to have you.” Jongdae speaks carefully, aware that Yixing probably doesn’t understand everything he’s saying. He does his best to keep his racing thoughts from showing on his face. The news that Yixing’s clan had no choice but to fight has his view shifting dramatically. Evidently, he must have zoned out as Yixing has to physically catch him again. 

“The bath is this way.” Yixing accompanies his words with another soft smile and Jongdae follows his guide. The bath ends up being a well secluded hot spring. Steam floats gently off the warm water. There’s no one else here thankfully so Jongdae doesn’t feel too worried about his body. Yixing seems to have absolutely zero qualms about showing his body off. He’s quick to slip off his outer tunic revealing a sleeveless vest which also comes off before Jongdae has even made a move to remove any clothing. Suddenly realising Jongdae will likely need his help to remove his own clothing, Yixing spins back to help Jongdae clad only in loose fitting trousers that hang low on his hips. Jongdae feels his breath catch in his throat when he takes in how Yixing looks. Befitting his position as leader and as warrior, Yixing has an incredible body. Jongdae knows he’s not being subtle as he rakes his gaze over all of Yixing’s exposed skin but he’s a little awestruck. Dragging his eyes back to Yixing’s face, he finds Yixing smirking at him. 

“I look good, yes?” Yixing’s words highlight just how caught Jongdae is. There’s no judgement in his words though, nothing like there would have been back home. Deciding it’s best to simply admit he had been staring, Jongdae chuckles under his breath. 

“You look very good. I’m jealous.” Jongdae has Yixing laughing with his words. 

“My body must be good. I am glad you like it.” 

“I am not like you.” Jongdae looks down at his own body. Whilst he’d never been out of shape, he’d never had the kind of muscles Yixing has. It’s unlikely that the weeks he’s been recovering have helped too much either. Yixing seems completely unfazed by Jongdae’s concern. 

“You are good. You should not be sad.” Yixing says the words so easily, Jongdae is swept along into believing them. Jongdae had changed out of his own clothes and with Yixing’s help had roughly cleaned himself so Yixing had seen him shirtless before. Relenting to Yixing’s gentle help, they ease him out of the loose shirt he’d been wearing. His shoulder is healing well and the skin has mostly stitched itself back together smoothly. There’s considerably less pain than he’d been suffering with before. Convinced that Jongdae is ok, Yixing turns back around to the spring and immediately shucks off his trousers. Decency takes over in Jongdae’s head and he dutifully turns away to work on his own trousers. He works quickly, not wanting to be stood naked and awkward for any longer than he had to be. 

The water instantly warms him, steam rising as he sinks down. Heat seeping into his body has him relaxing faster than he has in months. Yixing laughs as Jongdae moans low in his throat. It’s lucky the water has already pinked his skin otherwise Jongdae’s embarrassment would have been painfully obvious. An ease creeps into his body and he sinks lower into the water until it laps at his injury. It twinges slightly as the water brushes over the healing skin and Yixing is by Jongdae’s side in a hurry. 

“Be careful, you are likely still hurting.” Yixing places his hands on Jongdae’s skin and Jongdae is acutely aware of everywhere Yixing touches. 

“I’m ok, I’m ok, just a little shocking is all.” Jongdae’s words have Yixing easing backwards but he remains close, constantly scanning Jongdae for any signs of pain. It takes a few little tries before Jongdae can fully sink into the water but the soothing feeling is worth the initial discomfort. There’s silence for a while, both simply enjoying the feeling of hot water surrounding them. Hot springs were known for their healing properties so it makes sense that Yixing had wanted to bring Jongdae here as soon as his body was able to handle it. Yixing hovers closer than is normal for a hot spring but Jongdae chalks it up to concern over his injury more than anything else. 

“I want to keep you safe, Jongdae. I am sorry for hurting you.” The relaxing waters add to Yixing’s soft words and Jongdae feels them seep into his skin. Yixing’s tone is gentle as he moves even closer to Jongdae. His hands reach out gently to brush against Jongdae’s arms until they trail down to take Jongdae’s hands. Fingers intertwined, Jongdae finds himself all too willing to let Yixing hold him. The past weeks have shown him a side of Yixing that reflects perfectly into Jongdae but he’s always worried that there would be a barrier between them. Despite this, Yixing has tried everything to communicate that he wants Jongdae’s forgiveness and more recently, more than just forgiveness. Jongdae’s eyes fill with tears and immediately, Yixing panics. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” 

He releases Jongdae's hands in a hurry, but before he can get too far, Jongdae is reaching out to grab him. 

“Don’t be sorry, the tears are happy.” Taking a deep breath and summoning his courage, Jongdae meets Yixing’s eyes. “I forgive you. Can you forgive my intent on the battlefield as well?” 

“I forgave you before the fight.” The smile Yixing shows weakens Jongdae even further. “After you fell, the dragon appeared. Many years ago, it was predicted that my future would arrive in bloodshed and marked by a dragon. When you were lying there, I knew that my future was there. With you.” 

Yixing’s words are some of his most fluent, clearly he’d been practicing hard to make sure his words were accurate. 

“I’m… your future?” Jongdae’s puzzled expression must mirror an earlier one of Yixing’s as Yixing mimics Jongdae’s actions. Reaching up and out of the water, Yixing presses a thumb between Jongdae’s brows until he relaxes and giggles bubble out of him. 

“Yes, I believe so. And I will follow you where you go. In ten days I think you can travel back to your family. And I would be proud to come with you.” 

The implications of exactly what Yixing is saying thunk into Jongdae. 

“You would leave your people?” 

“I have no true family here. My parents were taken in the battlefield. Yifan is a capable leader, more so than I am. He has agreed to take over and the people like him. I will be happy to return and visit but I know you are my future.” Seemingly set on it, Yixing beams confidently. Unable to resist, Jongdae throws himself forward, arms wrapping around Yixing's shoulders. Blatantly ignoring the twinges lacing through his shoulders, Jongdae finally lets himself feel. With another laugh, Yixing catches him around the waist and they stumble together in the water. They share the embrace for a few more beats before Jongdae suddenly becomes acutely aware of his nakedness and he hastily draws back. 

“OK, together. We can be each other's future.” 

~~~

It takes three weeks for Jongdae’s shoulder to recover well enough for him to make the trip back to his parents. Each day, Jongdae learns more words, meets more of the clan, and slowly learns why the people here love Yixing as he grows to care for him as well. Yixing becomes better and better at traditional chinese as well, teasing and being playful whenever he manages to get the words right. 

The night before they are due to depart, Yixing leads Jongdae to a clearing and lays out a mat for them to both lay back on. As they lie there together, Yixing points out constellations and finally points to the one of the ones Jongdae recognises. 

“The dragon. He watches over us, making sure we complete the tasks set to us. He makes us brave. The night before I took you to the hot spring for the first time, he appeared in the sky and I knew it was the right time to tell you.” Yixing slides his fingers between Jongdae’s and turns to face him. “You are where I am supposed to be. I am blessed with you.” 

A familiar sting of tears prick at Jongdae’s eyes as he closes the distance between them in a soft press of lips. Together, under the guidance of the dragon constellation, they know that they have found the missing part of themselves with the other. 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading!


End file.
